Cold feet

　　I am exhausted. We both are. We collapse on the bed the minute we enter his room in Josef’s house, panting heavily like we ran a marathon. Ben’s hand seeks mine; he bursts into laughter and I join him.

　　Staring at the ceiling, I lock my hands behind my head. He nudges me with his elbow. “Hey, baby.”

　　I blush. Ben has never called me baby. “Hey.” 

　　With a grin, he bops my nose. I run my fingers through his hair, scattering it all over his forehead. 

　　“Thank you for coming,” he says against my nose.

　　“Thank you for inviting me.” 

　　Gently, he tugs me into a sitting position. Kissing me slowly as he undresses me, he lifts me to his lap to pepper more open-mouthed kisses on my lips. I help him out of his jacket and shirt so we are both almost naked. He shrugs out of his sweatpants and bolts to his feet, nearly throwing me off his lap. 

　　“Sorry. We didn’t lock the door,” he whispers.